Sensations
by Hughnatic
Summary: The Doctor breaks through the fabric of reality to visit the meta-crisis Doctor and Rose in a parallel universe. Tencest, Ten/Rose, Tentoo/Rose Rated M for sexual content
1. Chapter 1

He had given up the controls and let the TARDIS drift leisurely through the Constellation of the Crystal Pathway. He'd been leaning against the jamb of the open doors for hours: hands in pockets, gaze unfixed, feeling small. To a lonely man, the universe is vast indeed.

He'd just about made his mind up, and felt the weight of his decision press solemnly against him. Yes, there was guilt, and some fear, but also the inevitability. The consequences? He couldn't honestly say. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. What sort of wound? On how many people and places? Just him? Just the three? Or would everything collapse? And the possibilities. That last day, the touch. Could it really be that…?

Well, he was The Doctor. He was used to it.

His entire body tensed at the sudden alonelessness. He opened his eyes and felt himself in his bed, in his room, in the dark. He turned and saw Rose, lying next to him, fast asleep. He rolled onto his side, and waited. _It's coming,_ he thought. _There's nothing to do about it now._

A few minutes later, he arose, pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt (how funny that he felt that he shouldn't be undressed in the presence of the Doctor), and went to the living room sofa to wait. Before long, he heard the front door unlatch and saw his own, suited silhouette walk toward him.

"Doctor," he said by way of greeting.

"Doctor," the other replied.

"John," he corrected. "John Smith," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, right. Of course." Well obviously if he were going to set up residence in one planet, he would need to give himself a name. Well, on this planet, at any rate.

"No interdimensional crises, I trust?"

"No," the Doctor said with a smile.

"Good, good. Cuppa tea then?"

"That'd be lovely, thanks."

"Come on, then." John led the way to the kitchen, turned on the light, and put the kettle on. Then he leaned against the sink and waited for the Doctor, who lagged behind to peer around the flat.

"So," said the Doctor as he entered the kitchen. "How's it been?"

"Yeah, it's been good," John replied. "Odd. I still feel a bit like I'm just undercover. But it's getting to feel more permanent. I got a job."

"Oh, yeah? UNIT?"

"No, at least, not really." John rifled through the cabinets as he spoke, and pulled out two teacups and placed a teabag in each. "Rose works there, I help out on a… freelance basis." The Doctor chuckled. "But that's not my full time job. For my full time job I work in a shop!"

"What! That's brilliant, I love a shop!"

"I know! Hamleys Helper, it's lovely. Bit stressful, but then I've been to the edge of the universe, so could be worse." John turned off the burner right before the kettle started to boil so as not to wake Rose. He filled the teacups and brought them over to the kitchen table. He handed one to the Doctor and they both sat down.

"Yeah, you say that now," said the Doctor, blowing on the hot tea, "but you haven't gone through the Christmas season yet. Or have you? How long has it been exactly?" Without taking his eyes off of John, the Doctor took a sip of his tea. Instantly, John stiffened and met the Doctor's stare with a look of knowing incredulity.

"It's been—it's been, uh, four months…" the stunned John stammered distractedly.

The Doctor couldn't wait a second longer, he had to know. "You—?"

"—yes."

With a sigh, the Doctor bowed his head. "I knew it," he whispered. "I knew I felt it, I-I knew it."

"Yeah," John replied softly. "I felt it too. I've wondered…" After a moment, John lifted his teacup to his mouth. He sipped.

The Doctor jumped out of his seat and staggered back several steps. His eyes were wild; they grew swollen and red as tears threatened. His expression was that of fear, of pain, of need, and carnal desire. Yes, it was as he'd hoped! As he'd feared! It was the reason he broke through the unhealed fracture in the wall of the universe, the wound he himself had sealed for the safety of all worlds. This is what he'd risked, and it was real! "I knew it! I tasted it!" he choked out.

John's expression was that of relief, of resignation. The question was answered. It was confirmed. It was inevitable. "That last day… in the TARDIS, when you bumped into me…"

"You felt it! You felt what I felt! And I felt you feel it!"

John nodded. "I can feel what you feel. I can taste what you taste. I can sense all of your senses. And you can sense mine. We're connected." He rose and made his way toward the Doctor. He extended his hand. The Doctor eyed it warily, and then, tentatively, took it in his own. The feeling of touch upon touch overwhelmed both men. Each felt the other, and felt the other feel the other, layer upon layer of sensation. They stroked and massaged each other's hands, feeling and feeling, and feeling them feeling. John raised his hand to the Doctor's face. As the Doctor leaned into his touch, he simultaneously felt John's hand cup his face, and the soft scratch of his stubble on John's palm. This was new, it was foreign, it was change. He sighed, and both men moaned as the hot blast of air struck John's hand.

"You knew why I came," said the Doctor.

"I wondered if you would," John said soberly. They broke from each other and John's gaze penetrated as he said, "if this were to happen, there will be consequences." The Doctor nodded. "For Rose, for you."

"And you?"

"I'll manage. Either way, I'll be here. But you, you'll have to go back with the memory. And Rose… well, she's still recovering from the last goodbye. You found a fracture in the wall of reality, you saw it seal itself up, you left it to heal, and then you exploited its vulnerability to break right back through it. How much longer will it take to strengthen now? How much deeper will the scar be? We can't do that to Rose as well."

"Of course not!" the Doctor spat out. "You know I would never do that. You talk as though she won't have a say in it!"

"Won't have a say in what?" Rose interrupted from the kitchen doorway, to the astonishment of the two men. The Doctor bolted upright; his alarmed expression slowly widened into a warm, though guarded, grin. John instantly hurried over to her and took her gently by the elbow. The Doctor flinched at the touch. Grogginess dulled her emotion, and she hardly knew what to make of the sight before her.

"Rose," John said tenderly, and pressed his lips to her hair. The Doctor, unnoticed by Rose, inhaled deeply. She acknowledged John's gesture by leaning into his body and smiling up at him, but then her gaze returned to the Doctor. As she awoke more fully, her emotions emerged from the haze of sleep—confusion, anger, frustration, delight, wonder. She ran to him and threw her arms around him.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed, laughing. "How many times will we be parted forever?!" He and John both chuckled despite themselves. "It's so wonderful to see you! How did you manage to get here? How long will you be staying?"

"Well, that's all a bit complicated actually," the Doctor replied.

"Yeah, I'm sure it is," she quipped.

"So, before I get into that, can I ask—how long were you standing there?"

The smile left Rose's face, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone as she replied, "Long enough for it to be weird." She looked squarely at them as they exchanged awkward glances. "Like, really freaky, so one or both of you is going to have to explain to me what is going on."

John approached the kitchen table and said, "Why don't we all have a little chat? Tea, darling?"

"No, I'm good thanks," she responded, and the three of them sat around the table. "So. How about if we start at the beginning and then you tell me what I do or don't have a say in?"

The Doctor leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. "Well, to start, you know that Time Lords have a certain telepathic predisposition. It's how we feel each other."

"Right, of course," said Rose. "But John doesn't have that. That didn't get passed on to you during the biological meta-crisis, right?"

"Right…well, technically anyway. I can't enter your mind or let you enter mine. I have no ability to interact telepathically with anyone… except him." He nodded toward the Doctor without looking away from Rose. "Sort of."

"Look, imagine a tree," began the Doctor animatedly. "Imagine you have a eucalyptus tree and you want to grow another eucalyptus tree. So you find a seed from the tree, plant it, and it grows into another eucalyptus tree. That's like you, right? You started off as a little seed."

"Right!" John took over. "Now let's say you want to grow a third tree, but this time, you cut a whole branch off of the first tree and plant the branch. Well, that's me, I'm the branch."

"Exactly!" inserted the Doctor eagerly. "He—John—never started out as a seed. He was born from a fully formed branch of myself!"

"So, you see?"

Rose raised a skeptical eyebrow at the two identical faces, staring at her expectantly. They both looked a little crestfallen at her lack of enthusiasm.

"Well, _I_ thought it was a brilliant metaphor," the John remarked consolingly to the Doctor.

" _Thank_ you! I did too!" he replied, vindicated.

"You see," the Doctor said, returning his attention to Rose. "John and I, we're the same—the Time Lord half, anyway. Literally, the same. John grew into his own person, but I'm still there, that branch is still there, fully formed. We're not _related_. We're _connected_."

"So that's why," John continued, "I can still feel him."

"Okay, okay, I get that," said Rose, shaking her head. "But that still doesn't explain what you're doing here…. or what I just saw."

"On that day…." The Doctor grew contemplative. "That mad day. Everything happened so fast. But when we were all together in the TARDIS, the two of us… touched."

"Touched like…?" Rose fished.

"No, no!" cried John. "We just touched, by accident. But when that happened…"

"…I," continued the Doctor, "turns out, _we_ , got the sensation that we could feel what the other felt."

"It was like we were inside the other's body, felt it as though it were happening to us. Imagine that feeling, Rose. At the same time I felt him brush up against me, I felt him feel me as he brushed up against me. And I felt him feel that I felt him, and he felt me feel that I felt him feel that I felt him. And so forth. It's not doubling the sensation, it's exponentiating it."

"The thing is," the Doctor said. "It happened so quickly that it was hard to tell if it really happened. And we certainly didn't have the time to find out. But I've been wondering ever since, and the need to know has grown and grown until I had to come back to see if it were real."

"But," Rose pointed out. "When you left, you said that the walls of reality were sealing themselves up forever. You said we'd never see each other again, you made me think that once the walls sealed them up, you couldn't come back through."

"That will be true once the crack of the wall of reality has fully healed. But right now it's still weak and I knew where to find it."

"Trouble is," said John, "now that he's done that, it will take much, much longer to seal, and a weak point in the fabric of reality is a very, very bad thing."

"So, you're telling me," demanded Rose. "That you put every single universe in danger, that what just happened could now happen all over again, because of _you_ , just so you could find out if you two could feel each other?"

The Doctor, chastened, ashamed, murmured, "Yes, I did that. I put everything at risk. Every living thing on every planet in every galaxy in every universe in reality. But it wasn't just to find the answer. It was to… to…" The Doctor couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Rose," John said, speaking for the Doctor. "I know how this is going to sound, but please try to understand. He and I are the same. We feel the same… and we know what makes us feel good. I know exactly what to do to bring perfect pleasure to him with every single touch, and he knows what to do to me. And that pleasure will be multiplied by infinity. We can feel infinite pleasure." The Doctor's head remained bowed, and John shot him a sympathetic look.

Rose was disgusted. "Doctor, are you telling me that you exposed _all of reality_ to potential destruction so that you could get off with yourself? How could you be so reckless?!" Tears began streaming down her face. "How could you be so _selfish_?! John, tell me honestly: did you have anything to do with this decision?"

"No. But I'm him."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing."

"Here's the thing, Rose. He didn't do this so we could get off with each other. He did this so that he could share it with you."

"Oh yeah? What are you offering, Doctor? The chance for me to watch?"

The Doctor remained silent. "He wants to make love to you," said John.

"So, you would put all of reality at risk to make love to me?" accused Rose.

For the first time, the Doctor rose his eyes to hers. The words he spoke were filled with all the feeling in the universe. "Of _course_ I would," he breathed. "A million times over. And if you didn't already know that, I am so, so sorry."

Rose's eyes, which glittered with rage, now softened as everything she had been feeling rushed out of her body, leaving only tenderness and compassion behind. "Well then why didn't you do it before? Why didn't you come to me when I fell into this parallel universe? You knew I wanted you."

"Because I have a responsibility. After all the wonderful things the world has done for me, the last thing I could do was to put it in danger."

"Well then, what changed?"

"This time," John said on the Doctor's behalf, "he has something to offer you. The chance to give you infinite pleasure."

"But how? I'm not connected the way you are."

"No," said the Doctor. "But if I were to establish a telepathic link with you, then you could feel me. And I could feel you. And I could feel you feel me."

"And I can feel him," added John. "And he can feel me."

"And you could feel me," the Doctor replied. "You could feel me." Hesitantly, he stood, and slowly walked over to Rose. He offered her his hand and he pulled her up to stand in front of him. John rose from his seat too, and stood behind the Doctor, watching the two of them.

"Doctor, I love what you want to give me," Rose whispered. The Doctor brushed her lips softly with his and she sighed. "But I just can't accept it." Her words were unconvincing. He went on as though he hadn't heard her, and maybe he hadn't. He feathered kisses down her jaw, and nestled his face in her neck. He breathed deeply. Rose's mind went blank. She knew nothing but his mouth on her. The Doctor, so very gently, placed his fingertips on either side of Rose's face, and she succumbed to his silent entreaty. She could feel her mind opening up to him, and everything within her grew as he beckoned her into the vastness of his psyche.

Suddenly, she wrenched herself away from him. "Doctor, if I did this, I'd share responsibility in what you've done. And I'm sorry, I won't do that. I won't do it!" With this, she burst into tears and flew back into her bedroom, slamming the door closed behind her. She fell onto her bed, weeping. She could barely live with herself for turning down the Doctor _and_ John, so she escaped the only way she could. She willed herself to fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Rose woke from her troubled half-sleep to a light brush of lips against her mouth, then the tip of a tongue tracing the contour of her upper lip. Hot breath. Her bottom lip was pulled gently between two teeth, and was released with the flick of a tongue. She tilted her head to try to find and ensnare those elusive lips. Only, wait. No one was kissing her, she was alone in the bedroom. She felt a hand cup her neck and she dropped her head back to give those lips access to her throat—only, wait. Her head was resting on her pillow. She was vaguely aware that she was dreaming, but the last thing on earth she wanted to do was to wake up from this—only in a once-in-a-lifetime dream could one experience this immeasurable depth of pleasure. Every touch was designed to make her beg for more, while she expertly gave and withheld, teased and rewarded. A wordless entreaty invited her—begged her—to succumb. It was as though it came from within herself and yet it was not hers. Strangely, she realized that the part of her that was engaging in this perfect act of intimacy was not her own either. She came to the slow realization that she was not dreaming, nor was she touching nor being touched. She was the Doctor, and she was John, and the Doctor and John were locked together in this perfect piece of sensuality. Her telepathic link with the Doctor was still open. Again, she felt the plea— _come,_ it said, _please come._ Eyes closed, she began writhing on the bed. _Give yourself to me so that I may give this to you._ She kicked off the covers. _No one has ever been so loved as you are._ John's lips caught the Doctor's and they wrestled as John unfastened the buttons on the Doctor's suit jacket. Rose felt the release as the constricting garment was yanked off and thrown to the ground. She grasped the sheets in her fists. She felt the frantic desire to remove his tie and begin the painstaking task of unbuttoning his shirt. She felt the hot touch of John's hands and arms encircling the Doctor's bare torso, and felt the Doctor lose his footing as John pushed him against the wall and deepened their kiss. She continued to writhe in the dark, and let her hands move over her body.

"Ugh!" both men cried out with pleasure at her touch. They felt the soft swell of her stomach, the pliant yielding of her breasts. John relived the long-awaited satiation of a repressed desire as the Doctor felt Rose's body for the first time. The Doctor's hands wandered down to John's ass and he forcefully pulled his hips against him, their swollen cocks rubbing against each other through their clothes. Rose lowered her hand between her legs and felt the throb of her desire under her fingers. Again, the invitation was extended. _Come. Let us touch you. Give me this. Let me give you this._ She slipped a finger inside of herself, then brought it to her mouth and sucked the sticky sweetness. _Please! Let me be a part of you! Let me feel your pleasure!_ To entice her further, the Doctor yanked John's t-shirt over his head and their lips crushed together again as it was discarded. Chest pressed against chest, torso against torso, and groin against groin, beneath the descant of Rose's delicate touch.

Now she understood. Of course the Doctor would come. Knowing what she now knew, it was obvious that it was the right thing to do. Was it only a few moments ago that she thought he was a monster for putting all of existence at risk? A small price to pay! This was bigger than everything!

She rose from her bed and made her way to the kitchen where the men were entwined. She walked up behind John and spread her hands across his back. The second her skin came into contact with his, they felt as though the walls of their own personal universes popped like overtaxed balloons, rocketing them into the boundless atmosphere, freewheeling in space. The force crashed over them like a wave, and for a moment, they flailed around under the water, disoriented, unable to tell up from down, surface from floor. They soon emerged from this collective oblivion with an expanded capacity to feel, to experience. They found the boundaries of infinity and broke through to what is beyond. Rose kissed a trail across John's back and snaked her arms around his waist, sliding them beneath the waistband on his pants, which dropped to the ground, and continuing lower where she so-very-lightly began dancing her fingertips around his balls. She laid her cheek against John's back and met the Doctor's eyes when he circled back toward her. She kissed John's back, and the Doctor slowly brought the back of his hand to her face, and stroked her cheek tenderly. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to meet his lips. It was a sweet, sad first kiss (and it was a first kiss, really, although it wasn't the first time their lips had met), and the three bodies swelled with pleasure and loss. They broke their kiss and the Doctor lifted her nightgown over her head and threw it on the ground. As Rose was pleasing John with her hand, the Doctor nuzzled into her neck, placed his mouth in the hollow beneath her ear and suckled, hooking his arms around her. John, in front of Rose, tilted his head back to allow Rose access to his neck, which she took under her lips greedily. He raised his arm up behind him and hooked it around Rose's head, massaging her scalp and neck while her hand glided up and down his shaft. The Doctor, from behind her, undid his belt, unzipped his fly, and pushed his trousers and underwear to the ground and stepped out of them. He slid his palms down her hips and pushed his body into hers, contouring himself to her back. She felt his length press against her lower back. The turned her face up to him so he could catch her lips in his.

Feeling on top of feeling on top of feeling! Rose, sandwiched between the identical figures, felt herself, felt John, felt the Doctor, felt the Doctor feel Rose, and feel John, and feel John feel Rose, and felt John feel himself feeling him and Rose and Rose and him and John Rose John Doctor Doctor Rose mouth tongue hands hips necks hair breasts. The Doctor guided himself inside Rose from behind and began moving his hips gently, rhythmically, steadily. It drove her wild—she wanted MORE, but he wouldn't give it. Just the steady in out in out in out, taunting her, making her beg, feeling the desire. She took out her frustration on John's cock, which she was now rubbing furiously. He sucked air in sharply through his teeth and his face contorted as though in pain as the three of them together approached his release. The tension built and built and built, and then there was screaming and gasping and sighing. And still the Doctor's steady in out in out in out. As the waves of their orgasm began to subside, the Doctor finally began to increase the pressure and speed of his thrusts. John turned to face Rose and kissed her lips greedily, and wrapped his arms around the joined unit of her and the Doctor. Cocooned between the two men, Rose's arms were on John's chest as he occupied himself with her mouth, while the Doctor's lips moved indiscriminately around Rose's back, neck, and shoulders, and John's arms wrapped around them. In immediate response to their mutual urge, John released the conjoined lovers and the Doctor pushed Rose's head down so that she was now bending over at a 90-degree angle. As the Doctor slammed relentlessly into Rose from this new position, John moved to the Doctor's side, behind his left shoulder, and took the Doctor's mouth into his just in time to swallow both of their screams as the Doctor continued to batter Rose's G-spot. "More, _more_!" Rose cried unnecessarily—there was no need to voice her desires when they were felt millions upon millions upon millions of times over. "Harder!" There was a hearty CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! each time the Doctor rammed himself into her. John moved to stand flush against the Doctor from behind, and reached around to place his arms and hands on top of the Doctor's, gripping Rose's waist and aiding him in his powerful thrusts. In danger of reaching their climax, they slowed their pace, panting heavily. Then they went full force until their orgasm threatened, at which point they slowed again. BAM BAM BAM glide glide glide BAM BAM BAM glide glide glide. Again and again, they pushed themselves to the brink only to draw back. Finally, they could feel the inevitable crescendo. With every thrust, John grinded his hardness against the Doctor's bottom. Rose now began to rub her clit furiously, and the crest billowed higher and higher and higher, rising and rising, above mountains and clouds into the crisp clear sky, until it finally peaked! Cries and shivers and clenching and bucking as the freefall began—now the wind billows them up—another peak!—and the freefall begins again. They gradually drifted down like feathers—soft and silent. Twitching with aftershocks, their strength sapped. Rose, who had been balancing on her hands, dropped down and now leaned her weight on her forearms. The Doctor, still inside Rose, slackened his grip on her waist. John, behind the Doctor, rested his face against the Doctor's back, sticky and salty with perspiration. Real life didn't seem to be creeping back in as it normally would, so, still in their dream-like state, they gently disentangled themselves from one another. Exquisite agony as the Doctor withdrew his penis from Rose's aching walls. Not up to walking all the way back to the bedroom—a distance of about 25 feet—John grabbed some pillows and a throw blanket from the living room couch and they fell asleep in each other's arms right there on the kitchen floor.


End file.
